


Jingle Bells

by spikesgirl58



Series: Mouth of Babes [48]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve at the Solos and all is insanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jingle Bells

1Illya Kuryakin half waved over his shoulder and limped carefully up the sidewalk. It wouldn’t do to hurt himself now this close to being home.   He loved to have his cane, but he hated the look of sadness that his using it brought to Napoleon’s eyes.  It was as if the cane was a reminder of the one time Illya wasn’t fast enough.  It reminded Napoleon that they weren’t getting any younger, although Illya was secretly pleased that the aging process, at least, outwardly, seemed to have slowed for him.  Inside, he felt every one of his years.

He moved slowly up the shoveled path, hoping that no black ice lurked in the shadows that the late afternoon already cast. Illya had never minded the winter as a younger man, but now it was more and more of a challenge to not just crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head until spring.

After a hectic day, Illya was anticipating a quiet long weekend at home with his family. He opened the front door. The noise practically bowled him over.

“NO FLAKES, NO FLAKES, NO FLAKES,” Peter was bellowing as he beat on a pan with a wooden spoon. His twin sister followed behind, clanging pan tops together.

“JINGLE, JINGLE, JINGLE,” she responded.

Illya hastily looked back to see if his ride had already left, but it was too late. He’d been spotted by his two youngest grandchildren.

“Poppy!” Inessa raced over to him and thankfully grabbed his good leg to hug it tightly.  “I missed you.  Do you miss us?”

 “How could I miss you when I could hear you all the way downtown?” Illya hefted the two year old.  “You two need to take a break from caroling.  Please?”

Peter gestured to him to come nearer and Illya set Inessa down and bent over.  “Will it make me a good boy with Santy?”

“A very good boy.”

“’K.” The spoon was lowered.

“And a better boy and girl,” he added as he gathered them both closer. “Would take those back to Mommy.  She might need them for dinner tonight.”

“Let’s go!” Inessa was two steps ahead of her brother.  “I’m gooder!” she yelled.

“No, me! I’m more gooder!”

Illya watched them head back towards the kitchen and smiled. “That’s right.  Silly me.  There’s never a quiet day here.”

He took off his coat and hung it in the closet. Napoleon’s top coat was there and that made Illya even happier. His former partner, now Section One, Number One, put in way too much time to Illya’s way of thinking.  At least here, he was safe and under Illya’s watchful eye.  It was good to have the entire family under one roof now, although it could be chaotic at the best of times.

Illya allowed himself the liberty of massaging his hip before limping off towards the living room.

“Now it’s leaning left.” Leon, Napoleon’s son, by a very early liaison with Serena, was standing, hands on hips, looking just slightly annoyed.

“No, it’s not. It’s perfect straight.”  Napoleon was on the couch, a glass tumbler of Scotch in front of him.

“Gotta call you on that one, Dad.” Leon spotted Illya.  “Ah, a disinterested third party.”

“Not so disinterested,” Illya murmured. “I have to live with him, you know.”

“Well played.” Napoleon patted the couch beside him.

“But I agree with Leon. It’s tilting left.”

“Is the world against me?” Napoleon mock wailed as Illya limped to the tree and Leon got down onto the floor. Illya straightened the tree and Leon re-secured it in its base.  “Thanks, Chief.”

“All part of the package.” Illya started towards the couch.

“DADDY!” Irina ran into the room, nearly colliding with Illya, and straight to her father as he crawled out from beneath the tree.

He scooped her up. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been stringing popcorn for the tree all day and Petey just ate it all up!”

Peter came walking into the room dragging what was left of the popcorn string behind him. His bottom lip was trembling and he looked forlorn.  He walked over to Illya and buried his face in Illya’s lap. 

“I no gooder, Poppy,” he whimpered.

Napoleon lifted Peter up onto his lap. “Well, I’m sure Peter didn’t do it on purpose.”

That didn’t satisfy Irina. “He’s bad!  He ain’t getting nothing from Santa!”

Peter began to cry and Napoleon pulled him close. “It’s okay, Peter.  We will get you a special dispensation.”

“What does that—POPPY!” Leon winced as Irina shouted in his ear.  Illya looked up from eating the popcorn left on the string. 

He hastily dropped the string.. “What?  Oh, sorry.” 

“At least we know that Peter comes by his appetite honestly.” Leon set Irina down and rubbed his ear.  “As for the volume issue…  Tell you what.  After dinner we’ll all string some popcorn.  How will that be?”

For a long moment, Irina didn’t crack, but finally she nodded. “Okay, I guess, but Peter’s gots to promise no eating it.”  The little blond nodded solemnly and Irina sighed.    “All right, then, Petey, you have to ‘splain to Mommy that she needs to make more popcorn.  Daddy, you can come, too.” 

Illya watched as Leon took his daughter’s hand. “All right, let’s go see how Mommy’s doing now.”

“What’s wrong with Lisle?” Illya was suddenly all attention.

“She took the kids skating this afternoon. Let’s just say, she’s got a lot in common with a cocktail.”

“You’ve lost me, son,” Napoleon admitted as he helped himself to another splash of scotch.

“Bottoms up.”

“And she would appreciate no cracks about her having to sit on a pillow tonight.” Lisle appeared in the living room’s entrance and glared good naturedly at her husband.  She limped to the sofa to give Illya a kiss.  “Glad you’re home, Dad.”

Illya smiled up at her. “Me, too.”

She smiled at him and then Napoleon. “Do you two want to eat with us tonight?”

“What’s on the menu?” Illya wasn’t afraid to hedge his bets.  Besides, it was his turn to cook.

“Chicken stew and I made extra dumplings.”

“Yay, dumbplings!” Peter shouted and clapped his hands excitedly as he bounced on Napoleon’s knee.

“I think that’s a yes from the couch potatoes,” Napoleon said, tickling the boy.

“Totoes?” Peter looked confused at his grandfather.  He slid off and raced away.

“That’s your son, you know,” Lisle said to Leon, who grinned and grabbed Irina’s hand.

“Come on, kid, it’s just you and me against the world.”

“Let’s skip!” Leon laughed and began to skip with her out of the room.

“And me with no camera,” Illya said, deadpan. “That would have livened up the department meeting on Tuesday.”

“There is such balance in nature,” Lisle said, limping after them. “Remind me of this the next time the kids want to go skating.”

The two senior agents watched her leave and for a moment it was just the two of them, a rare occurrence indeed.

 “How are you doing tonight?”  Napoleon passed Illya a tumbler with some Scotch in it.

“It would be better if it was seventy out. As it isn’t, I am passable.”  Illya sipped the liquor.  “This is good.”

“Hannigan sent it over from England.”

“You Section Ones get all the perks. All I got from Hannigan was a new Number Two pencil when I was there.  Of course, it did have an eraser, but still...”  Illya trailed off and let his head fall back against the sofa back.  He jerked it back up and removed the headless Barbie doll.

Napoleon tilted Illya’s face towards him. “You look tired.”

“It was a hard week. It’s never easy, but to lose three good men, it just gets tougher every year and it’s especially hard at this time of the year.  There will be three empty chairs tonight and I can’t help but this it’s somehow my fault.” Only with Napoleon would Illya admit the truth.

“It isn’t.” Napoleon’s thumb stroked Illya’s cheek.  He was too tired to pull away.

“I know that, but there’s still that nagging feeling.”

“It makes me wonder how we managed to make it through to the other side.”

“There are times when I wonder if I did.” Illya finished his drink and began to massage his hip again as Napoleon took the glass from him.

“Let’s go get some dinner. That will raise your spirits.  After dinner, we are going to decorate the tree.”

“How about I direct and you decorate.”

“And miss out on hanging your favorite ornament?   What would Santa say?”

“I have a favorite ornament?”

Napoleon stood and offered Illya a hand. Illya levered himself up, smiling when Napoleon passed him the cane.  “I thought you might be needing this tonight.”

“Thanks.” Illya switched hands.

“I know it makes it easier for you.”

It did, but the sadness in Napoleon’s eyes was almost too much for Illya to bear.     “It’s okay, Napoleon.  I just had a long day and stress always makes it worse.” Illya started towards to the kitchen, making sure to avoid the landmine of toys that littered the floor.

“As if there’s no stress in our jobs.” Napoleon slipped around him, clearing a path. He knocked a bedraggled teddy bear out of the way.

“Would we be there if there wasn’t? Do these kids need more toys?”

“Not really, but it’s what Santa does.”

“Maybe Santa needs to rethink his strategy.”

They entered the kitchen and the chaos that any mealtime in that room created. However, it was almost peaceful in the room, despite the mess on the counters and floor. 

“Hey, Grampy! Hi, Poppy!”  Alex waved with his spoon momentarily before he returned his attention to his bowl of stew. 

“Is there some left for us?” Napoleon asked as they sat, well away from Peter’s and Irina’s chairs.  Both toddlers were enthusiastically enjoying their own helpings, too busy eating to talk.

“Of course.”   Lisle offered first Napoleon a bowl and then Illya. 

Napoleon smiled as he accepted it. “Well, I have to admit, it’s very quiet in here tonight.”

“Well, Mommy told them that Santa is watching and that they should be on their best behavior.” Leon helped himself to another bowlful of stew.  “This is great, sweetheart.”  He blew her a kiss.

“Thank you, Leon.”

“I bet Santa is watching Daddy and Mommy, too,” Alex whispered to Irina who nodded sagely.

“You’re right. Isn’t it romantic?”

“But if they start kissing, I’m leaving.”

                                                                                *****

“Who wants to put this up on the top of the tree?” Leon asked as he carefully lifted the angel from its wrapping paper.  

“Me, me!” Alex wrestled past his siblings to reach out for her. 

Leon reluctantly passed her over. “You have to be careful with her.  She’s your great grandmother’s.”

“Okay.”   Alex took the angel and held it over his head.  “Hey, she’s got no panties on!”

“Alexander!” Irina and his mother were scandalized. 

“What?” The boy held the angel upside down and pulled her skirts away.  “See?”

Irina’s eyes grew large as Lisle rescued the angel and shook her head as she tried to hide her smile. “You get more and more like your father every day.”  She set the angel on top of the tree.

“Hey! I’m an innocent victim here.”  Leon looked up from digging through the box of ornaments.   He found a couple suitable for the twins to hang and passed those over. 

Illya watched from the comfort of the sofa and when Irina drifted away from the tree, he caught her eye and gestured her over. As she drew closer, he saw a tear trickling down her left cheek. “What’s wrong, Irina?”  He patted the sofa beside him and she crawled up and nestled against him.

“Alex isn’t going to get any presents, is he?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Cause he looked up the angel’s dress. Now he’ll have black balls.”

Illya smirked and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Irina, where did you hear that phrase.”

“Daddy used it cause one of his co-workers got sent home for being a bad boy. Daddy said he got black balls.”

“I’m fairly sure that Alex’s actions like that fall under ‘typical boy behaviors’ and that Santa will let it go.” Illya stroked her hair.  “Besides, I have it on the best of authority that your grandfather did the same thing when he was Alex’s age.”

“Grampy!” Irina was astonished.  “Are your balls black, too?”

  It was to Napoleon’s great credit that he didn’t fall off the ladder or drop the ornament he held. 

                                                                                *****

“So, what do you want for Christmas, Dad?” Illya opened an eye.  He’d spent much of the evening dozing.  Now the children were up in bed and silence had descended once again. 

He closed his eye again. “A new hip.”

“If I could, you know I would.” Lisle kissed his temple.  “How about something made of macaroni and glitter instead?”

“I wait in anxious anticipation of Christmas morning.” He put an arm around her and pulled her close.  “I have everything I need.  As long as you, Leon, the children, and Napoleon are safe, all is right with my world.”

“Within reason.”

“Yes.” They sat quietly for a few minutes. 

“Are you really happy you moved in with us, Dad?”

“Are you?”

“No fair answering a question with a question.”

“Yes, I am glad, although I will admit there are times when the children are easier to tolerate than other times.” At the sign of hurt in his daughter’s eyes, he added.  “They aren’t bad, they are merely being children.  It reminds me of how old we are, but also why we do what we do.  I think we are both happy here.”

“We’re happy you’re here, too. Not only for our own selfish reasons, such as help with the rent and built in babysitters, but also it’s good for the children to know you both the way that they have.  Plus when you are around, they tend to mind a bit more.”

“I doubt that. You run a pretty tight ship.” 

She snuggled closer. “Plus I love having you here.  For so many years, I tried to imagine what you’d be like.  Mum had some pretty strong opinions.”

“Remembering Angelique, I’m not surprised.”

Leon and Napoleon entered. Leon was carrying a tray of drinks.

“What have we here?”

“Dad and I whipped up some hot buttered rums. Between that and the fire, we should be warm, body and soul.”

“And then we get to assemble children toys until dawn,” Napoleon added with a wink. “Thank God we had our own physicist on staff.”

“As if that’s likely to help.” Illya sat up and reached for his glass.  “I think a few more of these would help make more sense out of those instructions.”

“To inserting Tab A into Slot B,” Lisle raised her glass. The others mirrored her action

“And liking it,” Leon added with a laugh. He looked at the two older men.  “You don’t know how happy I am that we have come together the way we have as a family.  I never thought I’d have such an incredible life.”

“If you had said wonderful, I was going to bed,” Illya muttered. He sipped and nodded.  “Maybe two more of these is just the trick.

“Two more of these and we will be peeling you off the floor.” Napoleon looked over at his son.  “Why don’t you two go get the packages?  I’d like to get at least a little sleep tonight.”

                                                                ****

“Do you need a push?” Napoleon whispered as Illya looked up at the last flight of stairs leading to their attic apartment.

“Don’t tempt me.” Illya grasped the bannister and hauled himself upward.  It seemed to take a very long time to get up those ten stairs, but finally he opened the door to their apartment and stepped inside with a sigh of relief.  “Thank heavens,” he muttered.

“Amen to that.” The attic was cool, but it was almost refreshing.  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, your bathroom is out of commission.”

“What happened?”

“The nearest we can figure is that someone flushed something they shouldn’t have.”

“Not another action figure.”

“Possibly. I took the liberty of moving your stuff into my bathroom for the night.”

“Thanks.” Illya headed for his bedroom, quickly stripping off and pulling on his pajamas.  He shivered in the coolness and reached for his bathrobe.  Putting it on, he felt something in one of the pockets.  Pulling it out, he smiled.  It was a handmade Christmas card.  The lettering was crooked and the words misspelled, but to Illya it was the best Hallmark could have offered.

“Napoleon--” he started, but then grinned as Napoleon wandered out of his bedroom, also holding a card. “Our grandchildren are truly gifts.  This is more important to me than anything that could have been bought.”

“I think that’s part of being a grandfather, partner.” He placed his card on the small kitchen table and Illya set his next to it.  Then Napoleon checked his watch.  “We have about four hours to sleep if we are lucky.”

“Luck will have nothing to do with it.”

 

                                                                                *****

 

Outside, the snow was coming down, but inside, no one seemed to mind. It was Christmas morning and very little could disturb the sense of calm that followed the early morning storm.

From the kitchen, delicious smells had been taunting them for hours and Illya’s stomach occasionally reminded him that it had been hours since he’d eaten… well, eaten something more than fudge, fruitcake, cookies, and a host of other goodies spread out on the coffee table.

Alex and Leon were on the floor, racing cars on Alex’s new race track.

Irina was happily brushing the hair of her newest Barbie and talking with her about playing nicely with others.

The twins slept among the torn wrapping paper and ribbons, curled up with each other, looking the picture of innocence.

“Some Christmas, Napoleon murmured as he sat down beside Illya.

“Great, wasn’t it?”

“Well, except for that handlebar fiasco.”

“I did it exactly as it stated in the directions. It wasn’t my fault that the manufacturer had a poor grasp of English.”

“It was made in America.”

“My point exactly.” Illya sipped some wine, a gift from a coworker.  “I like my cane, thank you.”

“I was hoping you’d take it in the spirit it was given.”

“Very much so.” Illya took Napoleon’s hand and squeezed it.  “I know it bothers you to see me use one.”

“It bothers me more to see you struggle without it.” Napoleon stretched.  “I think I could do with a bit of a nap.”

“That’s the nice thing about being older, no one complains when you do.” Illya winced as he shifted on the couch.  “Barring that, just moving would be helpful.”

“Tell you what, how about a nice bath?”

Illya shook his head. “With all the Barbies, submarines, and other toys?  It’s not worth the effort to take everything out.  By the time, I’m finished with that, I’m really finished.”

“Did you ever wonder why I got home early yesterday?”

“No, I was just pleased that you had. You work far too hard, Napoleon.”

“That sounds funny coming from you, Mr. Nose-to-the-Grindstone.” Napoleon gave Illya’s hand a return squeeze as he stood.  “The reason was that we installed a tub in your bathroom yesterday.  That’s why we didn’t want you to use it last night.  It’s our gift to you.”

Illya sat up. “You did what?”

“I know how much you like to soak, so I had Kawa-san send over a soaking tub for you. It arrived a few days ago and I had it installed yesterday morning.  Alexander wanted to know what you had done that was so bad that you were going to have to take a bath every day.”

“You are kidding?”

“Go see for yourself.”

Illya stood, levering himself up with his new cane. “Are you coming?”

Napoleon grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  Leon, when’s dinner?”

Leon looked up startled and his car flipped off the track. “Dang it, Dad, you made me wipe out.  About five, I think.”

“We will see you, then.” Napoleon gestured onward,  “Shall we, partner mine?”

Illya paused and looked back at his little family, so cozy and content for the moment. With a smile, he realized he didn’t hate winter at all, not when he had so much love to keep his heart warm.


End file.
